


New Territory

by rachaellikestoread



Category: Suikoden, Suikoden III
Genre: Anal Fingering, M/M, Rimming, Sex Toys, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-25 19:54:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4973968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rachaellikestoread/pseuds/rachaellikestoread
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nash helps Sasarai get over his worries about anal sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Territory

**Author's Note:**

> This story contains the word "slut" used as part of a fantasy, for the mutual enjoyment of both parties.

As I look at the object Nash holds in his hand, all I can gather is that it's a strange and beautiful stick. It is about eight inches long and made of transparent glass, with a bulb of sorts on one end and a large ring on the other. Between the bulb and the ring, there are dozens of beautiful blue dots on the glass' surface.

"Take it," Nash says. "Run your hand over it. How does it feel?"

"I'm not sure I know your game," I tell him, but I do as he asks and feel the raised bumps against my fingers and palm. It is not an unpleasant sensation. "What is it?"

"It's a dildo." Nash's attempts at hiding a smile may have worked on Dios, but he's not going to fool me. He's finding my bemusement amusing. (Ha.)

"Dil...do." It sounds like a made-up word. "Care to share with me what that means? I don't recall it being in any of the dictionaries or encyclopedias I've read."

Nash's face brightens, as it usually does when he's about to explain something _improper_ to me. "It's a vaguely penis-shapped apparatus designed to go into the vagina or anus. Of course, you can always suck on them, too."

_Oh_. I can't quite keep the disgust out of my voice as I ask, "Do you mean to tell me this has been in a human orifice, Nash?"

"No, this one is brand new," he assures me, and I'm inclined to believe him, since I pride myself on being able to detect a lie (although Nash is better). "I bought it, in fact, with the very sincere hope that you would use it."

Again, the only word that comes to mind is... _Oh_.

Regardless of what Nash will tell you, I'm no greenhorn when it comes to sex. I don't advertise it, but you'd be surprised how few bishops actually adhere to the vow of chastity. A few consider it shameful, but most of us have tasted the forbidden fruit once or twice, and found it delightful. As long as it doesn't interfere with our duties to Hikusaak, nobody really kicks up a fuss. Besides, I've only ever been with Nash.

But this? This is an entirely new concept to me. I've heard, of course, of sodomy--anal penetration with a penis--but I had no idea there were objects created for this express purpose.

"You want me to use it?" I ask. "And you want to watch me use it, right?"

He shrugs. "I won't lie and say I wouldn't like that very much, but this is a _gift_. You can do what you want with it, even use it in a way that it wasn't intended. Hell, if you want to throw it to the floor and smash it to pieces, you're beyond welcome. You've certainly done as much before."

"Hey, now, I _dropped_ that vase." It _was_ a hideous thing.

"Your secret's safe with me, Bishop," he says, and winks at me. "To be fair, I never shed any tears over that poor vessel's fate. I think even Lord Barows himself--"

"Sir Euram," I correct him. "Officially, he's denounced the Barows name."

"Yeah, Sir Euram--wanted to get rid of the last of old Salum's outrageous collection. I shudder to think what would have happened if anyone but you had received that vase." He slaps his knee and adds, "I think there might have been a war between Falena and Harmonia after all."

I continue to draw the glass wand through my hand. I do like the sensation, and can't help but wonder how it would feel inside. "Thanks, Nash. I think I'll keep this one. It'll look good on my bookshelf, if nothing else." I know my words won't fool Nash, but he has the grace to grin at me and leave.

***

For the third night in a row, I'm lying on my bed, freshly showered, wearing a bathrobe, and staring at Nash's present with a sinking feeling in my stomach.

I have served under Luca Blight, the most evil man who still called himself human. I have faced my own brother on the battlefield, twice. I have confronted the truth about what I truly am. 

Surely, I can gather up the courage to put something in the other end of my digestive tract. I mean, I've certainly put enough things in my _mouth_.

I haven't done it yet. I can't even say that I've tried.

I have never once touched my anus for any purpose except hygiene, and even then, it has been with bath tissue or water. To be honest, I've enjoyed the sensation of warm water pulsing against it, and I'm afraid of that pleasure. It's a filthy part of the body. What would the fact that I find it pleasurable to _touch_ my anus, let alone to put something inside it, say about me? I know it's ridiculous, and that I should be over this sort of prudishness, but something's standing in the way of me reaching out to this toy and putting it inside.

I guess I'm going to need Nash's help after all.

***

"Anal anxieties?" he asks, with that uncanny ability to detect all things of a sexual matter.

"How do you get over it, Nash?" I ask over a plate of apple scones. "I mean, putting something in your, you know, your underground?"

"Underground?" Nash laughs. "That's a new one. Anyway, if you ask me, the best way to get over your fear of something is to just _do_ it. You may not be as reckless as me, but you're not as uptight as Dios, either."

Now it's my turn to laugh. "Dios isn't as uptight as you think he is."

"Oh?" Nash leans forward, an eager smile on his face.

Whoops, I've said too much. I raise a hand to stop him. "He told me certain things in confidence."

"You mean he was drunk."

This man is really too clever for his own good, but I can't fault him for it. "I'm not saying any more on the subject."

"Fair enough." I close my eyes as he leans further forward, and his lips meet mine for the briefest of moments before he says, "I'd much rather talk about you, anyway."

"Well..." I feel my body getting hot as he brushes his fingers against my cheek. "It's not that I don't want to try it, Nash. But it's hard for someone who's internalized the idea that anal penetratoin is dirty and disgusting to get past that particular barrier."

He pulls back, and before I know it, he's all business again. "That's an uncomfortable truth about anal play," he admits. "Unlike a vagina--Don't you wish you had one?--the anus isn't self-cleaning, and, you know, shit happens."

"Oh, God." He actually said it. "Yes, that's pretty much my concern. I don't know if I could look at you again if something like that happened."

"It's not a big deal," he says. "I mean, it's happened to me, it's happened to other men. If it helps, I promise not to say anything. Remember, you had the same reservations about oral."

Ah, yes, oral sex. The _other_ "filthy" act. "But this is different," I insist. "Nothing's dirtier than--than--"

"Bacteria that can be found in a disturbing number of places," Nash says, and I have to admit he's right. I've read the studies myself. "I'm no more grossed out touching a man's butthole than I am touching a door handle."

_Butthole_. Dios would be blowing a gasket right about now, but I find Nash's vulgarity to be refreshing. "Still, Nash..."

He raises an eyebrow. "Shall I prove it to you?"

I avoid his gaze as I nod slowly.

***

"It's good to start with a shower," Nash says as he turns on the water. "Get everything nice and clean. And I do mean everything."

"No." I can't believe he said that again. "It's not like you to repeat your horrible jokes, Nash."

He laughs weakly as he wets and soaps up one of the bath sponges. "Admittedly, I'm a little nervous, so forgive me if I'm not at my best today."

"Nervous?" I sigh contentedly at the sensation of the sponge gently moving across my shoulders. "That's not like you at all. What do you have to be nervous about?"

"I want you to like this experience," he says, moving the sponge down one of my arms, then the other. "I know touchy most people are about that part of the body, and I don't want to give you a complex. I never want you to think that I'm disgusted by your body, and I'm afraid that's what will happen if I don't do this right." He kisses my neck and begins to scrub at my chest and stomach. "I know I treat our time together like it's a game, but I do love you, Sasarai. I don't ever want to make you uncomfortable or unhappy."

He doesn't need to say any more, but I know there's also the issue of what I am. Sex does more than feel pleasurable to me. It makes me feel _human_. When Nash and I touch each other intimately, and bring each other to climax, I feel a connection to him that I've never felt to another person before. I feel eternity--not the dreary, hopeless kind as the unaging bearer of a True Rune, but something that, while not eternal in itself, cannot be wiped from existence. I love him, and he loves me, and even if all life in the universe dies, that fact will never change. Really, sex wouldn't be necessary for me to know that, but when I reach my peak in his arms, with his lips against my neck and his voice in my ears and his fingers caressing me, I can _feel_ it.

"Sasarai..." He's finished washing most of me and is now rinsing me off. "I'm just going to use water now."

"What?" I turn around to look at him. "No, use soap. I mean, if you're going to wash me back there..."

"Water is enough. Anything more could irritate you."

I hand him a bottle of some very mild soap that I use to wash my intimate regions. "Use this instead. It's never caused me any irritation."

Nash nods and squirts a small amount onto another sponge. "Let me know if anything stings. First I'll do the front."

He takes his time, teasing me, pulling back my foreskin, spending more time than necessarily cleaning my glans.

"I love this cock," he murmurs in my ear. "I can't get over how enormous it is. I suppose you have Hikusaak to thank for one thing, at least."

"Thanks," I say, "but it's completely worthless as far as I'm concerned. The length, I mean, not the organ. But I'm glad you like it." I inhale sharply as he gently washes my thighs and my testicles. "Careful. I don't want to release yet."

"I know your body better than you think I do." He kisses my neck and whispers, "Are you ready for the back?"

I tense, then nod. 

"Is that a no or a yes?" he asks. "I want you to be clear with me on this."

I shift in his arms so that I can face him. "It's a yes. I do want this. Don't be fooled by my nervousness."

"I'll be careful," he promises. "Tell me if you want me to stop, and I will, no questions asked."

The brush of the sponge against my anus makes me moan, and I squirm against him. It feels shameful, just as I expected, and also exquisitely pleasurable. Even as I touched it when cleaning myself, I had no idea such a remote part of my body could be so sensitive.

"How does this feel?" he asks.

"Good," I manage to say. I long to feel his fingers instead, but I let him carefully scrub me, telling myself to be patient. It takes only a minute.

He pulls his hand away. "I think we're about ready. You want to get out now?"

"Yes." Part of me doesn't want to get out. I would gladly let him wash me until hunger or exhaustion takes over, but I intend to accomplish what I called Nash to help me with.

***

"So what position should I take?" I ask when we've both undressed. 

We are in my room now, and while I always felt uncomfortable with the privilege of having my own private quarters, I've been grateful ever since I stopped sleeping alone all the time. It's far too lavishly decorated for my tastes, but I didn't choose to have lacy curtains and satin pillows everywhere. 

Apparently this is how all the privileged bishops' bedrooms look. I wouldn't know.

"Whatever's comfortable," he tells me. "On your side or on your stomach will probably work best, so your balls won't get in the way. But if you go on your front, put a pillow under your stomach so you don't crush your bishop with his nice red hat."

I can't help it. I burst out laughing. "Nash, seriously? That's one of the worst I've heard." I look down at my semi-erect member. "Would you really call that red? It's the same color as the rest of me."

Nash shrugs. "Men everywhere have come up with countless euphemisms for their cocks." He grins and bows in an overly obsequious manner. "Considering Your Holiness' position, I thought it was an appropriate one."

"I always did think blue was too dreary a color for this country." My heart pounds as I stretch out on my stomach, taking Nash's advice regarding the pillow. "Now what?"

"Now, you relax." I feel the mattress sink beneath his weight as he gets behind me. "Just focus on how it feels, and tell me if you want to stop, or if anything hurts or doesn't feel good."

My heart is racing. It's late afternoon, so there is still a possibility of someone knocking on the door. Even with the curtains closed, it wouldn't be difficult for even the most obtuse of intruders to know what's going on. Nash, of course, could hide, but it would be difficult for even me to maintain my composure if I had to open the door to some wide-eyed novice asking me what those strange sounds coming from inside were.

"Are you ready?" he asks me.

I take a deep breath and let it out. "Yes. I'm ready. Go ahead." I laugh, realizing I sound like I'm asking him to perform a _coup de grace_. "Do it, Nash."

Eyes closed, I feel his hands on my bottom, squeezing, massaging.

"I don't know which I like more," he moans, and I feel his lips brush against my thigh. "Your cock, or your ass. I think my money's on whichever one I happen to have in my face at the moment." He kisses me again, this time directly on one of my cheeks, and I feel my anus twitch in anticipation. "God, Sasarai, this is turning me on like you wouldn't believe. I just want to bury my face in your ass. May I touch your asshole now?"

I'm actually grateful for his vulgar wording--if he said "anus" now, I think I would die from embarrassment. "Touch it," I tell him, and I feel the part in question twitch again.

I feel a wave of pleasure course through my body as he presses a moistened fingertip against my anus. My penis is hardening; my hips are twitching. I don't know if it's the knowledge that I'm allowing something so profane to be done to me, or if my anus is just that sensitive, but this excitement is unlike anything I've felt before, especially considering how light his touch is.

"I love how you're responding to this." He spreads my cheeks apart, and I feel his breath against me. "If you want me to, I could really make you squeal. Would you be willing to let me use my tongue?"

He continues to stroke me, the tip of his finger encircling the ring of muscle, making me want to open up and take it in. I would do anything to increase the pleasure I feel at this point. I tell him so.

His lips press against this new, unexplored part of me, and his hands once again grab my cheeks, pulling them apart to expose more of me to him. He encircles my anus with the tip of his tongue, gently, then roughly, in one direction and then in the other. He uses the tip of his tongue, then presses his tongue flat against me, strokes me with the front side, then the other side, and I bury my face in the sheets to stifle my own cries. I desperately want to stroke my now fully-erect penis, but I force myself to be patient.

"Oh, Sasarai..." he murmurs in between kisses, licks, and nibbles. "You're so sexy. Can I put my tongue inside you?"

"Yes, do it." The words are barely out of my mouth before he presses the tip of his tongue to the entrance and forces it in--yes, forces, because my body still wants to keep it out. It isn't used to this sort of intrusion.

He moans against my bottom, sending sweet vibrations against my skin. He pulls his tongue out, gasps, "God, I'm in heaven," and jams it back in. I grind my teeth as he swirls his tongue inside me, moving it back and forth, left and right, up and down. Even when he used it on my member, I never thought a tongue could do so much.

I push back against his hands, against his mouth, wordlessly urging him to go deeper, knowing that he can't, trying to hold back my frustration with the body's limits. He withdraws his tongue again, and I let out a cry of disappointment.

"The...the thing." My hand flails behind me as I try to remember what that glass wand was called. "Give it here."

He laughs and pushes it into my hand. "The dildo. But you're not ready yet."

"Why not?" The desperation in my voice would normally embarrass me, but I don't really care at this point. "Nash, _please_."

"I love how eager you are," he says before kissing my twitching entrance again. I'm going to reach my peak if he keeps this up, but before I can say anything, he adds, "I'm sorry. I got lost in the moment, and kind of forgot to tell you earlier. You need some better lubrication than my spit. Just hold tight, all right? I'll be right back."

And he leaves me. He leaves me lying on the bed, completely naked, my bottom in the air. If I weren't so turned on, I'd be furious, but now I feel like crying. He always does this; he loves to tease me like this, and if I'm being honest, I love it, too.

A few minutes later, he returns with a small brown jar. "This is good stuff. It'll stay slippery and it doesn't stain."

Once again, he sits on the mattress, and I spread my thighs for him. I force myself to keep still, but the cool gel he applies to my anus makes me yelp. "That's cold!"

"Yeah, it is," he agrees, and touches me again. "I had no idea your asshole was so sensitive, Bishop Sasarai. I'd say it's begging for more attention, wouldn't you?"

"Nash," I plead, and I know the tip of my penis is leaking fluid at this point.

"May I use my finger?" he asks as he traces my opening some more.

"Yes, yes, use your finger, use whatever you want." 

"Can I put it inside you?"

"Yes!"

And I nearly weep with relief when he does, and my body clenches down on his finger. Urgent moans escape me as my hips move against him.

"Good boy," he whispers as he spreads the gel inside. "We need to get you nice and slick, and you're making this very easy for me."

"Am I ready now?" My voice comes out in a whimper, and I both hate and love him for reducing me to such a sad, begging mess. It's this reversal of our official power dynamic that feels even more perverse than breaking my vows, and I can't get enough of it.

He torments me for several more moments before answering. "Yes, I think you are."

I moan with relief as I feel the glass bulb press against my anus. It's big, or at least it feels that way. I spread my legs further, hoping to open myself up. I cry out as Nash pushes the wand past my anal ring into my body.

"Your body is very receptive, isn't it?" He pushes it deeper in, and the little bumps that I thought only existed for decorative purposes stimulate my insides, making me groan some more. "I thought I would fuck you with this, but you're doing a great job yourself."

"Shut up." I know how shameless I look in this position, but the sensations are heavenly, and it wouldn't even matter to me if all the bishops, Hikusaak included, walked in on us right now.

He hits a spot inside me, and I don't know what it is, but something makes me want him to touch it more. "Nash," I pant, "what is that?"

"It's called the prostate gland," Nash answered, "but I like to think of it as your sweet spot. It sounds cuter, don't you think?" He pushes the wand past the spot, deeper into me, but as I continue to clench down, I feel the bumps nudging my--What did he call it? Prostrate? Odd name for a gland.

He pulls the wand almost all the way out, then pushes it back in again. His pace is now agonizingly slow, and I know he wants me to beg, but I want to draw this out as much as he does, and I look over my shoulder, sending a cheeky look in his direction.

He raises an eyebrow at me and beams, knowing my game. "Tell me how much you want it, Sasarai. Let me know what a slut you are."

I laugh weakly. "It takes one to know one, right?"

"You really are a spoiled brat, you know," he chides, slapping my rear. It's hard and sharp, with just the right amount of sting to make me writhe beneath him. "Now, start telling me, or I won't let you come."

"Nash, please," I beg him. "I want it. You win again. I'm going to die if you don't start moving that wand faster, and harder."

He slaps my bottom again.

"And I'm a slut!" I cry out. "I'm such a slut. I'm the biggest slut I know!" Honestly, what does he want me to say? "Please, Nash, just tell me what to say and I'll say it. Just give it to me!"

He holds up his hands, and the movements of the dildo cease completely. "I just thought of something."

"What now?" I groan.

"I want to measure your cock while you're still hard," he said, beaming. "This will be a good opportunity. I'll be right back." And the jerk, the fool, the--the _jerk_ actually gets up and leaves me again.

I manage to keep myself from screaming with rage by imagining all the different ways I could kill him. I try to use my anal muscles--something I never even thought about before--to try and pull the dildo deeper inside, then push it back out again. Unfortunately, this particular part of my body is not well trained, and I only succeed in pushing it all the way out.

Grumbling at my own clumsiness, I pick up the wand again and push it back into myself. Moaning with relief, I start that back-and-forth motion that Nash was doing, realizing that I didn't need him after all. I'm cursed with short arms, so it's a bit difficult, but I discover that lying on my side works best. Before long, I'm _really_ pleasuring myself, and doing a better job of it than Nash, because I know my own body. I quickly figure out the best angle for stimulating my sweet spot, and I place my fingers in my mouth to stifle my cries. This is so much more intense than just stroking myself, and I'm getting close to reaching my peak.

"Hey, hey!" Nash is back, and he has his entire "bag of tricks" with him. "You should have known better than to start the show without me," he says in a teasing tone. "This is your punishment. Plus a little delay while we're at it."

I know when I'm beat. I don't resist him as he sets me back against him and pulls out a tape measure. He then unwinds it against my erection, starting at the base. When he discovers the length, he lets out a low whistle.

"Eight inches even," he announces. "Unbelievable. I'm envious as hell right now, and it makes me want to punish you more. How the hell do you keep from falling on your face?"

I laugh despite my agonizing arousal and shake my head. "If I were to fall when I was excited, it wouldn't be my face I'd be worried about."

"Fair enough." He sets me back on my front and massages my bottom some more. His voice drops his jocular tone as he asks, "But seriously, Sasarai, do you want a quick end to this, or not?"

I think about it. I'd love to reach my peak soon, but it's my day off and I don't have any duties to attend to. I'm also curious about how long Nash intends to draw this out, since he hasn't climaxed, either.

"Surprise me," I tell him. 

In response, he spreads me open and buries his face in my cheeks again. This time, he just teases me by poking at my entrance with the tip of his tongue. "I'm never going to get sick of this," he sighs. As he speaks, he lightly strokes the rim with his thumb or uses both thumbs to spread me further. "I want to bring you to the edge over and over, denying you release until you're crying and slobbering and incomprehensible. I want to drive you to the very brink of madness. Would you like that, Lord Sasarai? Would you like to let go completely and put your body's fate in my hands?"

Nash and I both enjoy coming up with scenarios where we could subdue one another, although we would never truly harm each other. I know that if something he says makes me uncomfortable, I can tell him, and I expect the same of him. Before we became intimate, I never would have imagined that sex would open up so much trust in me. Now, I would not only trust him with my life, but with my soul, too.

"Answer me," he commands, before pressing his lips against my anus again.

"Drive me mad," I manage to croak. "Reduce me to mush. I hand everything over to you."

He licks me a few more times before responding. "I want you to come up with a safeword. Something to say that tells me you want me to let you orgasm, even if I wasn't going to. I want to know the difference between your begging because it's part of the game, and then you really wanting me to give you relief."

"Uh..." My brain is not exactly functioning well at this point, so I say the first word that comes to mind: how often I wish we could do things like this. "Everyday."

Nash laughs. "Everyday it is. Just don't forget it." He pats my bottom affectionately. "I'm going to lube you up again. If you do forget your safeword, just say something like, 'No, I'm serious, I need to come,' and I'll show you mercy. But honestly, I'm probably not going to draw this out much longer."

I feel the cold lubricant against my puckered hole again, and I can't keep my pleasured moans in as his fingers rub it against my sensitized skin. The moans turn into a cry as his fingers penetrate me once again.  
"Your hungry asshole is sucking on my fingers already." He moves them slowly, gently, brushing against my sweet spot rather than rubbing it. "I wonder what the other bishops would say if they could see you right now? Or maybe they'd all want to take a turn with you. Would you like that, Sasarai?"

"Oh, God, yes," I cry, although I certainly wouldn't want all 10,000 of them at once. "I want all of them at once, 24/7 for a whole week. Or a month. No, for the rest of my life. I want to be a living, breathing sex machine."

"Slut," he whispers.

Why does that word turn me on so much? "Nash...please...the dildo..."

Nash slips his fingers out of me and spread some more lubricant around my opening. I whine pitifully, knowing he's just drawing this out for his own sadistic pleasure. "Oh, you're so ready," he says, and begins to tease me, slowly, with the tip of the glass wand, shoving about half of the bulb into me and turning it around. "How's this? Is this enough?"

"Naaaaaash." Words are failing me. "Please, Nash..." I know he wants me to tell him what he wants, so I add, "Please, move it deeper. Faster."

He does as I ask, but just barely. He hasn't even reached my prostrate. No, wait, _prostate_. Why did it come to me just now?

"Beg me some more," he commands, and I comply, telling him that I'm pathetic, that I can't do anything on my own, that my body is his to use as he pleases. "That's a good bishop," he murmurs, and rewards me with a deeper, more solid thrust. 

I cry out and arch my back before remembering where I am and putting my hand over my mouth. I want him to go harder, but I'm afraid to say anything at this point. I don't think I could control my volume.

Nash seems to understand that I can't beg him any longer, and he begins to move the wand in earnest, going as deep as he can, twisting the wand, drawing it all the way out before pushing it back in again. I understand now what he meant when he said he was going to "fuck" me with it. I understand, now, that "fuck" isn't a word that _means_ anything, but simply _is_. It's this sort of hunger, this desperate need, this intense physical and emotional sensation that overwhelms you to the point that you'll say or do anything to hold onto it. It's the scent of your own and your lover's sweat and arousal, the sound of his voice, your complete dependence on him, the surrender of your bodies to one another.

He fucks me. And I love it.

It doesn't take long at all for me to reach my peak, and when I do, I bury my face in the mattress and let myself scream. Then, I collapse.

"I'm beat," I manage to tell him.

"It's all right," he says, kissing the back of my neck. "I made myself come so you wouldn't have to."

I sigh happily and murmur, "Thanks."

Then he lies down next to me and takes me in his arms. "Would you really want to do this every day?"

I close my eyes, reveling in the smell and texture of his skin. I'm out of "slut" mode and back in "Did I actually _say_ the word 'slut'?" mode. "If it were possible, yes. That's about the only thing from our little role play that is actually true, though. I don't actually want to be anyone's sex machine, least of all the other bishops'. I don't want anyone but you to fuck me."

Nash laughs. "That word sounds strange coming from you."

He leans forward to kiss me, but I pull away. "Not until you've rinsed your mouth with salt water or vinegar or something."

"Fair enough," he sighs, and pulls me closer. "I'm just amazed that you let me do that to you."

"I _am_ amazing, aren't I?" I chuckle and add, "You can do it any time, as long as you wash your mouth out before kissing me." I am too sleepy to continue. I feel myself drifting off with Nash's comforting presence making me feel safe and happy.

***

I wake up with Nash getting out of bed. "You leaving?" I ask. 

"Yeah. I'm having dinner with Lena and Julie tonight." 

I like watching him get dressed. It feels intimate, since we bishops never disrobe in front of others. At the same time, it's sort of a shame, because it's a reminder that he's leaving.

I wish with all my heart that we could be together like this all the time. I want to wake up every morning with him, knowing that nobody and nothing can pull us apart. I want to share breakfast and dinner with him. I want to sit with him on the veranda in the afternoon, holding hands and looking at the garden.

Maybe someday I will.

For now, though, all I can do is kiss him (once he does what I asked and gargles with salt water). It's a good kiss, but the taste is a little sad. Can a kiss taste sad?

"I'll come back to you," he promises. He rests his hand on my cheek and kisses me again. "I will always come back, for as long as I can."

I know it's all he can promise. Really, it's all anyone can promise. And in Nash's line of work--not to mention my own--it's not just death that can keep one away from home.

"Give them my fondest regards," I tell him. "And bring me back some dessert, if you can."

I know it's silly, but extracting little promises for tokens of Nash's affection does more to convince me he'll return than any of his vocal reassurances. It also helps to keep the mood lighthearted. I suppose it's something I'll just have to get used to, now that he's no longer working for me. But every time we part, I wonder if it's the last time I'll ever see him. He's someone else's charge now, and for all I know, they may not be as trustworthy as I am.

He pats me on the shoulder. "Don't look so worried, Lord Sasarai. It really doesn't suit you at all."

_Damn him_ , I think, but I manage to smile. "It doesn't, huh? Fine, then. I won't shed a tear next time you take up some stupidly dangerous assignment from that new boss of yours."

Nash takes my face in his hands. "You know what I think? I think you're jealous. But just a little bit."

"Kiss me," I say. "One more time."

This time, we hold each other as we kiss. I wish we could stay like this, in each other's arms, for the rest of the day. I wish I could take him back to my bed to spend the night with him. But at least we no longer have any professional relationship. Now I know for sure that he spends time with me because he wants to, and not out of some sense of obligation.

Before he leaves, he tells me, "You know, it would be rude to spring a guest on Julie and Lena all of a sudden. But I could ask them if I can bring you next time. Would you like that?"

For a moment, I think he's teasing me. When I realize he's serious, I want to throw myself at him in gratitude. "Yes. Yes, I would like that."

When Nash leaves, I return to my room, intending to clean up. However, when I see that glass dildo on the bed, I think I'll just give it one more go.

It's my day off, after all.

THE END


End file.
